To Be Loved As An Alien In This World

What did I just write...?
Obviously, this is how I write while I'm sleep-deprived and running on coffee. Oh god.

K'saan hated mornings. 

Mornings were when the sunlight would streak into the room, lighting dancing patterns on the hardwood floor. And her skin would be blue.

She was a half-blood. Half-breed, the told her, amongst whispered insults and muffled snickers.

Mornings were also when she sunk into her flesh-coloured body. She hated it. 

Her blue skin was a soft, light shade, like when the sunbeams strike through the water when you're under, and it plays through the waves and creates the most beautiful thing.

That's her skin. 

It was horrible.

The End

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